Where You Least Expect It
by SerasenWind
Summary: She was gonna get him for this.
1. Chapter 1

**I own no angry red ghost hunters.**

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A loud beep sounds from my watch.

I'm not expecting it, and I almost spill the drink I'm filling for some over-perfumed cheerleader. I scowl at the sticky liquid running down my hand. Why do ghosts always attack when I'm at work, anyway? I'm already on thin ice with the number of times I've run out on a shift this week. I can't afford to lose even more hours. Not to say I won't if some spook is dumb enough to attack the Nasty Burger - people's lives come first - but I'd rather keep this job. It wasn't easy working my way up from mascot duty.

I hand the cheerleader her drink and scan the restaurant, looking for any sign of the ghost. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but my scanner is never wrong. There's ghost scum around here somewhere. I just have to wait for it to make its move.

The door opens. A flash of white hair has me reaching for my bag, but it's just some kid in sunglasses. I roll my eyes. Just what this town needs, another weirdo goth.

I spend the next twenty minutes too jumpy for my own good. I flinch at the smallest things - the slam as a tray hits the table, tiny nerd running from big jock, an empty cup spiraling as it misses the trash. Normal things, but things my overstimulated mind interprets as a threat. My senses are strained, waiting for that first glimpse, that first scream that will tell me where the ghost is. Another five minutes; nothing. Sweat drips down my neck. Where _is_ it? What is it waiting for? What-

"Um, hey, can I get a refill?"

This time I do jump, and then scowl at the goth kid leaning against the counter. "Yeah, yeah, just take the lid off first," I tell him, not even trying for a plastic customer-service smile. I'm too keyed-up for that. I reach for his cup. My fingers barely brush the cardboard before everything goes to heck.

Half cooked burgers explode from the grill, clipping a few civilians as they rocket past the counter. I reach for my bag, but now there's _two_ ghosts on my radar, and I don't know which to look for first. The decision gets easier when the meat-obsessed cafeteria ghost blinks into view. Crap. I still need somewhere to change. I'm about to run for the break room when a cold hand grabs my wrist.

"Don't bother, Val."

I turn back, scowling, and goth-kid shoots me a cocky grin as he lets go.

"I got this."

I gape at him, because one, he knows my name, and two, _I can see his eyes glowing through the sunglasses_. A minute later, and I'm kicking myself for being so stupid. White hair, glowing eyes, and two ghosts on my radar - it's _Phantom_. That- that _ghost_ \- has been sitting _right there in front of me_. Hiding behind a pair of sunglasses and a ratty black t-shirt, pretending to be human - _oh_ , but it makes me want to scream! And telling me to stay out of it, as if! Who does he think he is? Who does he think _I_ am? I'm Valerie Grey, thank you very much, and it's my job to kick ghost butt!

By now Phantom's crossed the floor to stand in front of the meat-ghost. He stares up at her with that stupid smirk of his and whips off the sunglasses. Immediately, people stop screaming and start to look interested.

"Hey, it's Phantom!"

"What's he doing here?"

"What's he wearing?"

"Cool, Phantom!"

"I wonder where he buys his jeans . . . ."

"Go get 'em, Ghost Boy!"

Phantom flashes them a smile; I don't wait to see what he does next. It takes less than thirty seconds to get to the break room, but there's another employee hiding in there. I bite back a curse and head for the alley. It's always empty - except for today, when the world's most dedicated garbage collector is clearing dumpsters during a ghost attack. This time, I don't bother to muffle my cursing.

Finally, I manage to find a port-a-potty to change in, which is all _sorts_ of pleasant, and race back the way I came. It takes me two minutes to get back. I'm ready for action - only, the meat-ghost is nowhere in sight and Phantom just escaped through the roof. I snarl and try not to stamp my foot in front of the public. All that stress, running out on work, and I don't even get to beat up a ghost!

Sometimes I hate my job.

* * *

 **So yeah, plotbunny escape. It ended up in first person present, which isn't my favorite way to write, but hey, whatever the story demands. Hopefully it turned out okay.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own no nervous half-ghosts.**

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I stare at my hand, willing myself to just grab the handle. I don't really want to be here, but I can't back out now - a bet is a bet. If I die for real, though, I'm totally going to haunt Tucker. Taking a deep breath, I push open the door to the Nasty Burger.

Valerie's manning the counter, because that's what my luck is like these days. I try not to flinch as her eyes snap to me. Thankfully, she seems to dismiss me as just another weirdo. I push my sunglasses farther up my nose, trying to keep my eyes hidden.

That's right. I'm here in ghost form.

It was Tucker's idea to put Phantom in civies; I'm just the sucker who took the bet. Sam will kill us both when she hears about it. Not if - when. Because that's my luck.

I can't stop myself from fidgeting as I wait in line. My only comfort is that Valerie looks just as nervous. Must be trying to spot the ghost. The line moves; hi, Val. Don't mind me, I'm just here for a burger. And possibly death. No really, _don't mind me_. I'm not even here.

I escape the counter and barricade myself in a corner booth where I can watch Valerie and still keep my back to the wall. I'm freaking out on the inside, but I don't let it show too much. No one's going to notice if I eat a little faster than normal.

Valerie's still looking for me, twitching all over the place. Eventually, she's gonna drop something. I do my best not to stiffen every time I feel her eyes on me. No spooks over here, I'm just a kid in the corner. This is not the ghost you're looking for. As the seconds tick past, agonizingly slow, I'm suddenly glad that my heart doesn't beat when I'm like this. I'd probably have gone into cardiac arrest ten minutes ago.

. . . Crap. I'm out of soda. The logical part of me says it's not worth getting more, but the other part is enjoying Valerie's frustration and wants a closer look. She _has_ shot at me at least six times this week. I think it over for a while, but let it never be said that Danny Phantom backed down from a challenge. I stand up and head for the counter.

"Um, hey, can I get a refill?"

She jumps, I jump, we both try to pass it off as a stumble. She's scowling at me, and for a second I think I'm busted, but all she does is tell me to take the lid off. She still doesn't look happy. To be honest, neither am I. Forget waiting for Sam to do it, I'm going to kill Tucker myself.

I'm in the process of handing her my cup when a slab of half-cooked meat nearly beans me in the face. My ghost sense kicks in a second later. Great. Just what I need.

I can tell that Valerie's about to run off and come back on a hoverboard. I almost let her, but then I get this stupid, awesome idea, and I can't stop the smirk from taking over my face. I grab her wrist. "Don't bother, Val." She turns back to me, and I let my eyes flare. "I got this."

I step back quickly; her expression right now is priceless. I almost wish Tuck was recording this, just for that face. I'd like to keep it forever, maybe stick it in Sam's scrapbook for posterity. Oh well. Back to business.

I walk right up to the Lunch Lady and whip off my sunglasses. People start talking, but I just flash a smile and tune them out. I've got a ghost to catch. Preferably, before Valerie stops being shocked and does what I told her not to.

. . . Aaand there she goes. Great. Maybe I'll get lucky for once and there'll be someone using the break room. Can't think about that now, though - gotta fight. I power up an ectoblast.

It's a typical ghost fight, except I'm fighting in jeans and it's weird. Thankfully, it's also a short fight. People cheer as I cap the thermos. I smile again; it feels nice to be appreciated for once. Outside the window, I can just see Valerie speeding toward me. I wave at everyone and shoot through the roof right as she makes the door.

Sometimes I love my job.

* * *

 **I feel like I'm being kind of mean to Val in this story . . . then again, at least** _ **her**_ **dad doesn't shoot at her. Danny puts up with a lot of crap.**


End file.
